


Timeline

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Accidental Death, Alive Marco Bott, Angst, Car Accidents, Dead Marco Bott, Emotion Play, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotions, Fluff, M/M, MarcoBodt Week, One Shot, Short, Short One Shot, Suffering, Unresolved Emotional Tension, vague writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events that lead up to the happy moments before Marco's accident and how his family copes with it afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timeline

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually for my CW final hahahaha  
> ha  
> ive put so many people through pain already  
> doesnt anyone know i cant write anything without it being angsty??
> 
> its really not that sad in the beginning  
> i tried to brush over the ending

Two weeks before Marco died; Jean got to meet his twin brother. It was awkward on everyone’s end aside from the man introducing the two. On Jean’s because he had no clue in the world that Marco even had any siblings until four days ago, and Markie’s- Marco’s brother- because this was the first boyfriend Marco had actually decided to bring to meet the family. Even throughout their years in high school, after Marco had come out, he had only briefly discussed or mentioned the boys he was dating, so when Jean was dragged along after him to the small coffee shop, surprise was an understatement. Maybe ‘astonishment’ would be a better way to describe his emotion, the look on his face. Because, after all, like many things in life, Marco came simply without warning, giving no heed to the fact that Markie was most likely not expecting this outcome.

       Eleven days before Marco died; both Markie and Jean had begun to bond, shooting texts with each other more often than most of their other friends, girlfriends, or boyfriend. Marco was elated, to say the least, that two of some of the important people in his life were getting along. Surely, with this result, Jean would do well with his parents, too. If he could, that would be enough for a blessing, and maybe Marco could hint about what he wanted to do in the future. He could hint how he wanted to spend it- with Jean.

Nine days before Marco died; he made plans to visit his parents over the phone, arranging for a time next week. They agreed, of course, and the date was set over some brunch and tea. Jean had laughed and called him old. He didn’t disagree.

Four days before Marco died; everyone was shocked, aside from, again, Marco. Like Markie; nobody was expecting to see another man being tugged along with the freckled male’s arm, but lo and behold, that was exactly what was happening to Jean. He got along well with Marco’s parents and they were ecstatic to meet him. They looked past his awkward fumbling, unconscious stammers, and harsh, barking words. What the saw after that was… Really just a guy their son was dating. It didn’t matter if they liked him much or not, as long as they could fake it and Marco was happy, it didn’t bother them in the slightest what his personality was like.

The day before Marco died was calm, quiet, and strangely- not the slightest bit eerie. It was a Book and Movie Day, as the boyfriends called it, where they would sit in each others’ arms all morning and afternoon, reading or scrolling through their phone. It was a day that was wordless, the only whispers of noise that could be found in the house being the shuddering of the lousy air conditioner, the puffs of breath on skin, and barely humored sniffles. They would end the 'event' with old, cheesy movies from the eighties, curled into the other, somehow each one in their love’s lap, both at the same time. It was almost a game, the countdown beginning the second someone pressed play, to see who would fall asleep first. The winner (or loser, depending on how it was looked at), the one to stay up the longest, got the prize of turning everything off and carrying a sleeping prince to bed. It was both Jean and Marco’s favorite type of day.

On the day that Marco died, everything could only be described as a wreck, if that isn't too ironic. Jean was taking the day off since the internet guy was coming over to fix the slow connection speed, Marco was having a terribly boring afternoon, and the coffee maker had stopped working mysteriously. Tripping down the stairs not only once, but twice, Jean was now sure he had a bruised kneecap, so he had to change into his only other clean clothes. It was really too hot for sweatpants, but he’d be damned if he let anything but the smooth slide of salty sweat and sticky cotton caress the purpling skin. It was especially worse when he had gotten a phone call- from a voice that was far too collected for the message- and had to hobble out of the house and rush to the hospital. By the time he had gotten there, Marco was officially ‘called’ dead.

Markie had arrived soon after Jean had and Dr. Whatever-Her-Name-Was had to deliver the news, because Jean was still in shock: he was unable to speak or do anything but stare blankly at the wall, with wide eyes that had just, frankly, seen too much. Even as Marco and Markie’s parents got there, leaving Markie to fill them in, nobody blamed him. They knew his pain. They were the only ones in the world who could say ‘I understand’ and actually be correct. They were the only ones who knew Marco like Jean did, maybe not in every way, but in more ways than most other people could. And over time, Jean learned to cope- learned to realize that maybe not everyone had to understand, just see that they were there for him, even when he was crying on the floor, eyes bright red from crying, nose running into the carpet.

 

* * *

 

Grief does different things to different people. Sasha, a good friend of Marco who owned a bakery, dyed the color of the icing on every red velvet cupcake purple, because that was Marco's favorite. Jean spent every free second of his live drawing his dead lover- and it wasn't until every inch of his wall was covered in a picture of a familiar face. His would-have-been-father-in-law spent extra time with Markie, hoping to build memories with the male, strengthening their relationship. Markie, well he changed his appearance.

It was more than just despair and nostalgia filling his expressions after a while when Markie looked in the mirror and saw his twin. He never saw himself anymore, but the other man. To fix this, he brushed his hair differently and searched through his stuff to find ways to morph his look. Inside the cabinets, he found an old eyeliner pen that an ex girlfriend left at his house. Using that, he rimmed his eyes twice, going all the way around, a thick line following his quaking hand. That night, after a quick trip to Walmart, he had colored his hair pink and used foundation to paste over his freckles.

Everyone at the funeral was surprised, but not a soul thought for a second that Marco had mysteriously came back, and for that, they were grateful.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> sleep well my friends
> 
> comments are cool, youre cool, im not, share the coolness
> 
> or check out my tumblr  
> (hint its url is the same as my ao3!)


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